Phase Zero: The Eye of the Storm
by The Rainbow Dragon
Summary: Gorillaz are more than just an animated band; they're a family. They've been through quite a lot together over the course of sixteen years. However, there was a time, before all the fame and fortune, when they lived separate lives. Not necessarily normal, but disjointed lives nonetheless. To fully understand their story, we have to rewind...and go back to the very beginning...


**Disclaimer: Gorillaz rightfully belongs to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett.**

**The Rainbow Dragon here, presenting to you the first installment of what I have dubbed "The Phase Series". This story basically an insight on the lives of 2-D, Noodle, Russel, and Murdoc. The first couple of chapters will take place before they met each other. The story will cover the retelling of how they became a band and all that. Includes**** multiple point of views and **no non-canon in-band pairings. 

**(Warning: Vulgar language and *gasp* Original Characters are included later in the story) **

** So, I present to you Chapter One of Phase Zero: Eye of the Storm. Enjoy! **

* * *

**Murdoc Niccals**

**Chapter One: Good for Nothing**

* * *

The world is a huge, terrifying place.

There is danger around every corner.

Starting from a young age, your parents always warned you of the threats outside the protection of home. You've most likely been constantly reminded to not cross the street without looking both ways first, don't talk to strangers, travel with a group of people you know well and trust, etcetera, etcetera. Being the obedient and sensible person that you are, you of course listened to their advice. After all, parents only want the best for their offspring. That is their number one priority; to ensure their children's safety.

Unfortunately, that is not always the case.

For you see, sometimes it is not the dangers outside that are the threat, but rather, the dangers within home's walls…

* * *

Everybody in Stoke-on-Trent knew Sebastian Jacob Niccals (or Jacob Sebastian Niccals, depending on who's asking). He deceived people with his charming, seductive façade; although those with enough common sense could clearly see right through it. He was a womanizer, a drunk, and just downright spiteful. He was easily recognized because of his trademark top hat, unusually long nose, and the fact that he had a greenish tint to his skin. He had a rather intimidating appearance, actually. Parents often told their children to stay clear away from him when they see him on the street. People were more concerned about keeping themselves and their own children safe, when in reality, it was Sebastian's own children who really needed saving.

Sebastian burst through the front door of his grimy, unkempt home in a drunken stupor. He noticed an empty beer bottle on the ground and picked it up, clutching it in his hand. "Hannibal! Murdoc! Get yer arses over 'ere!" His drunken rage escalated when only one of his sons came out of their room. "Hannibal, where the bloody 'ell is yer brother?" He glared daggers at the teenage punk.

Hannibal shrugged, scratching the half of his head that wasn't shaved. " 'E 'eaded off to bed a few minutes ago. 'E's probably asleep." His father looked at him expectantly, "What?"

"_What_?" He repeated in a mocking tone. He glared at the younger man, annoyed at the fact that he wasn't getting the implied message. "Well then go wake 'im up then!"

He groaned, "The kid sleeps like 'e's dead. 'E's not going to wake up no matter 'ow 'ard yew try."

"I ain't going to be the one who's trying, yew are!" he jerked a thumb towards the bedroom door opposite from Hannibal's, "Now go wake 'im up."

The teenager turned away from his father, rolled his eyes, and knocked on the bedroom door. "Oi, Murdoc! Get out 'ere!"

No response.

"Seriously you little snot, get out 'ere! Dad needs to talk to us."

Nothing.

He tried turning the door knob, but the young boy had locked it when he entered his room. "See?" The irritated punk crossed his arms. "There's no use in wakin' the kid up."

Sebastian growled and shoved his son aside. "I 'ave to do fuckin' everything around 'ere." he muttered. He repeatedly slammed his fist into the wooden surface, "Open the sodding door yew ingrate! Get your arse out 'ere right now!"

Murdoc clutched his teddy bear tighter to his chest when the yelling and banging from behind the bedroom door grew louder. The four-year-old was immensely relieved that he remembered to lock and barricade the entrance before settling under the bed covers. He was still quite impressed that he was able to push his small bookshelf and his desk in front of the door all by himself.

The reason as to why he must take such precautions is the fear of having his father come into his room again and strangle him while he's asleep. The man was in an intoxicated state of mind when he did so, therefore he only blamed it on the booze when Murdoc confronted him the following morning. The young boy then received his first beating after accusing that Sebastian would hurt him regardless of his mental state (how ironic). He remembered the wild look in his father's eyes, the maniacal grin on his face. With every punch, kick, and whip that Sebastian landed on the defenseless boy, his expression seemed to grow more and more euphoric.

It was as if he _enjoyed_ beating the shit out of his sons. That thought was enough to make Murdoc's stomach churn. He recalled locking himself in his bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably, and refusing to leave for the remainder of the weekend; not that anyone cared anyway. To make things worse, the old git never even apologized.

Relief washed over Murdoc when he realized that his arse of a father had given up on trying to break down the door. Now if only he would stop yelling; then maybe he could get some sleep. He closed his eyes, still listening to the argument outside:

"Where do yew think your goin'?" Sebastian's gruff voice sounded muffled through the walls.

"I'm goin' to my room. What else does it look like?"

"Oh no you're not. I still need to talk to ya."

"Well if it's so important, why don't yew wait until mornin'? At least both me and the little gremlin would be 'ere."

Murdoc cringed at the familiar sound of being slapped across the face. _Hey,_ _better him than me._

"I ain't goin' to be takin' orders from my good-fer-nothin' son. As fer the other one, I'll deal with 'im tomorrow. Now, as I was sayin', there's goin' to be another talent show at the pub this Friday-"

"Oh no, not this again. I'm gettin' way too old for that shit, dad."

_Slap!_

"Shut up! Don't interrupt me again."

The young boy pulled the blanket tighter over his head, as if that would stop the clamour from reaching his ears. It didn't. In fact, with every passing second, it looked as if the situation behind his bedroom door increasingly became worse and worse.

"I want yew and yer brother to participate."

"Why the hell can't yew just make Murdoc do it?"

"It gives the Niccals a double chance of winnin' if the both of yew do it. So I expect yew to do it, understand?"

"If yew want the damn money so badly, then go do it yourself yew old, lazy, sack of bollocks!" The eldest of the Niccals boys had enough of his father's crap tonight. Murdoc covered his ears with his pillows as his brother's final insult echoed throughout the entire house.

Sebastian's blood-shot eyes grew wide with rage. "How dare yew fuckin' talk back to me! I'm yer bloody father!" The sound of glass shattering caused the young boy to shudder under the covers. He knows how much harm that man can do with a beer bottle…

Murdoc didn't realize he was crying until he felt the dampness from his tears on the face of his beloved stuffed toy. "Oh Teddy…" he whispered to the ripped stuffed animal. "…W-what am I goin' to do?"

The toy did not respond; it only stared back at the terrified child with its large, black eyes.


End file.
